


The Prophet

by EmmaDestler



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Expanded Universe, F/F, F/M, Spoilers for Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaDestler/pseuds/EmmaDestler
Summary: Contains spoilers for season 2.After watching part two of the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, the thought occured to me that they dropped a huge bomb on us regarding the rest of their supernatural universe, and then left without further explanation or examination.Using inspiration from various other occult shows, and from light research into angels, I've decided to explore the side of Heaven as it would be in the show's universe.Connie La Chance is a faithful and God fearing girl who has recieved visions of the the apocalypse. What happens when she gets entangled in a war between witches and witch hunters?





	The Prophet

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I wrote this on my phone while really fucking high. I'm not sure it's any good, but if anybody thinks I should take the time to expand on it, please let me know.

“There has been a lot of /activity/ surrounding the nexus lately,” Michael said, entering a large room with high pillars and ornate silver along its walls. He made his way to sit at a large table across from his brother. He opened his mouth intending to speak again, but he was cut off. 

“I know, it's my job to watch over it,” Uriel's tone was dismissive of his brother. Uriel, God's right hand and the leader of the Order of the Innocents, sat at the head of the table. His back was straight, his face stoic. Michael, who sat with his head high but with the comfortable posture found in extreme arrogance, was known for being a little hot headed, and his siblings were often the trigger for him to become a loose cannon. Though, Michael was right, and Uriel himself had been worried about their fallen brother on Earth. “He grows stronger with each soul he claims.” Uriel managed to keep his voice sounding in a matter of fact way, not wanting to alert his brother towards his concerns just yet. It would do no good to take action without having information. 

Michael's previously cool face became irritated. He leaned forward over the table. “Can't your little Order of Innocents do something about that? Kill the witches, convert the sinners-” 

“God, our Father, made man with free will so that they may choose their own paths. And as for the witches, it is not up to us to intervene unless the witches become dangerous or too powerful. They fear mortals enough to keep their magic a secret, and however unfortunate it is, their loyalty to our brother has kept the majority of them huddled in their covens and desecrated churches. They pose no current threat.” 

Michael slammed his hand on the table. “Of course they pose a threat. They are servants and sluts of the Dark Lord. They will corrupt man, and destroy them.” 

“And if man decides to follow the path of evil, let them. That is their God given right, after all.” 

“God given right,” Michael repeats in a mock full tone under his breath. He began to think about Lucifer. As much as he hated his brother for turning his back on their father, he was beginning to understand him. He cleared his throat and straightened out before sitting back down in the chair. “If there is no threat then why are angels being locked in Heaven? I've heard complaints of depressed cupids who haven't been able to bring people together in love.” 

“It is a temporary, precautionary measure,” Uriel replied. 

“What aren't you telling me, brother?” Michael arched his brow and leaned forward slightly. 

Uriel remained still, stoic as ever. He decided tell his brother only half of the problem, still wanting to avoid the family feud. “A few weeks ago members of the Order claimed to have found a prophet. The only angel who knows the name of every prophet of the Lord is Metatron; we haven't been able to contact him for confirmation. There hasn't been a prophet in quite some time.” 

“Where is Metatron?” 

“Nobody knows.” 

“Going on lockdown because of one missing angel and a potential prophet though? Certainly there are people who can take care of this quietly so that the Host doesn't have to worry.” 

“That's what Gabriel said to me when I instructed that the gates be shut. But with The Scribe missing, I worry about the weaker angels. I can't sense our brother's power, how will I know if all the cupids are safe? And I worry the same for our warriors as well.” 

‘Our warriors have fought bravely in many battles and are trained to protect themselves,’ Michael thought to himself. He knew better than to continue a lost argument with Uriel. If he wanted more information he'd have to go to one of his other siblings. “What of the prophet?” He said, shifting the subject slightly. 

“I tasked Gabriel with providing secure lodgings for her.” 

At that moment a third man made his way into the room. Not a strand of his blond hair was out of place, and his robes were neat, clean, and wrinkle free. Gabriel the archangel had always cared about his appearance. He was responsible for the humans’ belief in a ‘Sunday best’ wardrobe. He was full of life, and always the center of attention. Though he was lacking in angelic battle strategy, magical ability, and knowledge he made up for it with his angelic grace, good looks, and charisma. “Speak of Gabe and he shall appear, wings, glory, and all,” Michael said. 

“It is the most uncomfortable feeling to hide your wings, I just don't understand how or why you do it, Michael. You haven't been to Earth in a while, you don't need to.” Gabe made his way over and sat down at the table. He smiled and waved at Uriel, but Uriel remained unmoved. “Still pretending to be a statue?” Gabe asked with a laugh. 

“The prophet,” Uriel responded, “What is her updated status?” 

“I see we're getting straight to business, then,” Gabriel's face fell and he became more serious. “Connie La Chance and her family have been moved to a new parish in Rhode Island. The church is guarded by sigils, and Selaphiel has taken up residence within.” 

“What about her safety? If Metatron is missing-” Michael was again cut off. 

“Selaphiel will be fine. The parish is guarded, she is armed, and she has a task at hand,” Uriel spoke. “If Connie La Chance is indeed a prophet, we must protect her so that she may fulfill her destiny.” 

… 

In a small town in Rhode Island, Connie La Chance is unpacking her belongings from large, cardboard moving boxes. Her father was a preacher, and he had been called to a new congregation. Her whole family was very religious, and even though they would miss their home, they looked forward to a new chapter in life and to what God had in store for them. Prior to Reverend La Chance's call, Connie had been bestowed a divine gift. She had become somewhat of a local celebrity, speaking of dreams where she would see blood and fire fall from the sky in place of rain. Religious nuts and some devout believers believed that end of times was near. 

Connie was grateful for the move because nobody in this new town would know who she was. Since her father's call, she hadn't had any fire and brimstone dreams either. Things were looking up for her. 

Connie was just about done hanging up her clothes when her mother knocked on her bedroom door. “Come in!” She called out as she crossed over to her bed to retrieve the last of her dresses and slacks. 

“Hey, honey. Your dad and I were thinking of heading over to the church and then going to get some dinner. Do you want to come?” 

Connie took a step back from the closet and admired her hard work: the clothes were colour coded, and separated by season. She then turned to her mom who was now sitting on the edge of her bed. “Sure! Just let me get changed and I'll be ready to go,” she told her mom with a smile. The La Chance family was close. 

Her mom stood up and made her way to the door, “I think your room is going to look very nice when you're done with,” she complimented, giving the room one last once over, “Be ready soon, we are leaving in fifteen.” With that her mother left, and Connie was back to going through her clothes. She settled on a black sweater and brown suede skirt. She put on a pair of stockings and slipped on some Oxfords. Then she quickly ran a brush through her blonde hair and grabbed her purse before making her way downstairs. 

She and her parents got into the family car and made their way to church. It was smaller than the one that she had grown up in, but its elegance made up for it. The building was not ornate, but the simplicity in its design aided in its beauty. It was a reminder of old times. It was a rock to hold onto when faith was scarce. Connie noticed some symbols carved into the walkway and on the front face of the building. They looked like runes or some other ancient language. Her father and mother noticed as well. They commented on it briefly, but then went inside and their attention was caught by other things. There was stained glass in a majority of the windows, and candelabras around the chapel. It had never been fitted for electric light, the building too old and sacred to do major construction work on it. There was another building used for offices, and and a third as a youth center. 

Connie stayed behind while her parents explored the inside of the chapel, and continued to examine the letters that were carved on the outside. The longer she looked at them, the more familiar they became, and she recognized them as a dead and Biblical language she had come across briefly in her studies. “People say that only angels can read those sigils,” a voice sounded from behind Connie. She turned around to see a young woman, somewhere in her twenties, with long dark hair. She smiled at Connie and came closer. “They are symbols of protection against evil. Only those who have been touched by the grace of God can walk upon them.” 

“I've seen them before,” Connie replied, taking another look at the wall, “I came across them while studying obscure texts.” 

“There are very few records that the language here even exists, you are fortunate to have found one of them.” 

“I just really like history, and I'm fascinated by the world God has created. I'm Connie, by the way. It's nice to meet you.” She took a step toward the girl and held her hand out. 

The girl took her hand and shook it. “My name is Selaphiel, welcome to The Church of Eternal Light. You must be related to the new preacher, right?” 

“He's my dad,” Connie replied. “Cool name, by the way, it belonged to an archangel.” Connie's usual composure was friendly, sweet, and outgoing, but she was currently standing with her bag on one arm, and twirling a strand of hair with the other hand. Hair twirling was a nervous habit of hers, and she only ever felt nervous when she had to take a test or was talking to a pretty girl. Connie's parents were pretty progressive, but she hated the thought of how they might react if she were to tell them she was questioning her sexuality. Her faith was no less than it was before going through puberty, but since then she had been second guessing if she likes boys or girls. Standing here in front of Selaphiel, Connie had the sneaking suspicion once again that she may be gay. Her words had come out less confident than when she spoke before, a nervous laugh following what she deemed as a failed compliment. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Selaphiel let out a giggle. “Not many people know that,” she said, “I'm impressed.” 

Connie was about to reply when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, honey,” she turned to see her mom and dad. “Sorry to interrupt, but we are going to look for the Senior Pastor and introduce ourselves.” 

“Guess that's my cue,” Connie said, dropping her hand from her hair and reaching down to hold her bag with both hands. She turned to look at Selaphiel as she spoke. 

At that moment Reverend La Chance piped in. “Well, wait a minute, you're making friends already,” he said to his daughter, “Are you going to introduce us?” 

Connie was blushing lightly. She loved her dad, but he never quite knew when to butt out of any situation. At sixteen, Connie was beginning to be embarrassed by her parents, but she did her best to deal with them. She took in a deep breath, and couldn't help but smile. “Mom, dad this Selaphiel, Selaphiel this is my mom and dad, Mrs. and Reverend La Chance.” 

Selaphiel shook hands with the both of them, saying a quick hello. “It's so nice to meet you both, we have been looking for a second preacher for quite some time. I'm sure you will love it here once you get settled in.” 

“I already love it,” the Reverend replied enthusiastically, “And I'm happy to be here to serve the congregation. It was nice to meet you, but we do need to get a move on. After meeting with the senior pastor, I promised the family we'd go out to dinner.” 

“That's not a problem, I myself was on my way to prepare for Sunday. I teach the primary age Sunday school class. Have a wonderful evening.” Connie's parents said their goodbyes and began to walk away, believing Connie was in tow behind them. “You might want to start walking before you have to run to catch up,” Selaphiel teased. 

Connie bit her lip, her eyes cast downward. Her left hand made for her hair, and her eyes moved to look at Selaphiel. “I don't have to follow directly behind them,” she replied, only making herself seem like more of a loser. “Um, anyway, it was great talking with you, maybe we could meet up on Sunday afternoon? Talk about scripture, and places with decent food in the area…” 

“I'd like that, it's a date,” Selaphiel replied. Connie's cheeks couldn't have been more pink, and Selaphiel realised quickly that might have said the wrong thing. It had, after all been a long while since she had interacted with human kind. Perhaps she was giving Connie the wrong impressions. “I mean- what I meant was that I'll see you then.” 

Connie could tell that Selaphiel was also a bit flustered. So she nodded and agreed, and said her goodbyes. She quickly left, and tried to catch up to her parents. The awkwardness of the situation was still lingering in her mind, and she needed a distraction from it. She finally caught up to them as they were making their way into the senior pastor's office. 

“You must Reverend La Chance and family,” an older man with grey hair said as he stood from behind a desk. He made his way around and shook Reverend La Chance's hand, then his wife's, and then Connie's. “I'm John Richards, Senior Pastor here at the Church of Eternal Light. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“You as well,” Connie's father replied. “We stopped by the chapel on the way in, it just beautiful.” 

“That it is,” Pastor Richards replied, “The chapel is over two hundred years old. It was built by settlers escaping religious persecution, and it remains a safe haven to this day.” 

While the clergymen were talking Connie's eyes wandered about the room. Pastor Richards had quite an impressive collection of books, tomes, and scrolls- some of them in glass cases. He seemed more of a scholar than pastor. 

“You're welcome to look at the books, young lady,” Pastor Richards suddenly said. He had noticed her eyeing them. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Connie said politely as she made her way over to the book shelf. She ran her hands over the spine of each book as she read the title, occasionally pulling one out to examine it. She didn't dare touch the books that looked like collector's items. She found herself at the end of the bookcase, and her hand brushed against an old scroll that was sticking out. 

//The room went dark and Connie felt dizzy. She suddenly found herself standing in the middle of the forest by why looked to be a stone altar. There was thunder so great that it shook the ground beneath her feet. Horrible sounds of screams and growls could be heard from a ways off, and behind the altar stood a man with his back to Connie. He had deep scars around his shoulders. “Hello?” He seemed not to notice her. “Hello? Sir?” There was still no answer. Connie decided to have a look around. When she turned she found a girl with short white hair standing in front of her. “Hi,” Connie tried, but the girl did not respond. It was as if Connie weren't even there. 

But she could feel the rain that had started to pour. Everything around her seemed so real. “Sabrina,” the man said, turning around. Connie had since moved to the side, out of their way. She didn't understand what was going on, except for that this was another vision. She decided to observe, and tried to stay calm.

“Dark Lord,” the girl replied. 

“It pleases me that you came, after all you have been quite defiant. Now, pick up the horn, open the gates of hell, my daughter. Tonight you will be crowned Queen.” 

Sabrina walked closer to the altar, and picked up the golden horn which had suddenly appeared out of thin air. She brought it to her lips and blew. Just like that, the water turned to drops of blood, and the screams and growls, the monster sounds got louder.//

Connie screamed and fell to the ground. Her mother rushed to her side as did her father and Pastor Richards. It had been a few weeks since her last vision from hell. She has thought that she was free, but she was not. Crying in her mother's arms, Connie rubbed her hands over her face and arms, as if to get the imaginary blood she felt off. “I thought the visions had stopped,” she said quietly through her sobs. 

“Visions?” Pastor Richards asked, kneeling down in front of her. “What do you see, child?” 

“Revelations from Hell, the prelude to the end of days,” she managed to choke out. 

The Pastor stood slowly, and reached for the scroll that she had last touched. Seeing the black ribbon which kept it closed, he knew exactly which text it was. A prophecy of the Herald of Hell. “What did you see this time child?” 

“Lucifer, commanding a witch to open the gates of Hell.” 

“Pastor, a word if you wouldn't mind,” Reverend La Chance said, standing walking out of the room. The old man followed him. “I cannot explain what my daughter is experiencing. She's seen a psychiatrist and there is nothing wrong with her, but I myself have a hard time believing that what she says is true.” 

“No man wants to believe in the end of the world,” Pastor Richards began, “We wouldn't be human if we had doubts. But your daughter has an extraordinary gift, and with its grave subject matter, it must be shared. People must know, prepare, and repent-” 

“She's in pain, and no longer wishes to be exploited. This was one of the reasons that led us to make the move- her visions had made her a spectacle in our hometown, and she wasn't happy anymore. All she wants to do is be a normal kid.” 

“God has other plans for her.”


End file.
